Prodigal son returns to lead church he once shunned

Tuesday

Sep 25, 2007 at 12:01 AMSep 25, 2007 at 3:09 AM

The Rev. Carlos Morris says he took his first alcoholic drink when he was a toddler. He smoked his first marijuana joint at 8. By 16, he was a full- blown drug addict, injecting himself with Percodan, speed and other drugs. Then it got worse.

Charita M. Goshay

The Rev. Carlos Morris says he took his first alcoholic drink when he was a toddler.

He smoked his first marijuana joint at 8. By 16, he was a full- blown drug addict, injecting himself with Percodan, speed and other drugs.

Then it got worse.

While many ministers preach about what they have never practiced, Morris said he has firsthand knowledge of how far a man can fall, and how high God can lift him.

On May 20, Morris, 43, became the senior pastor of the storied Greater Bethel Apostolic Church at 2335 15th St. SW. He succeeds the late Rev. Ralph Byrd, who occupied Greater Bethel’s pulpit for 40 years, building it into one of Canton’s largest black congregations. Byrd died in 2006.

“This is the church that I was born and raised in,” Morris said. “I began to live a life that was less than what I was raised. I had pretty much done all kind of crime.”

A bespectacled man with a conservative, quiet manner, Morris bears no resemblance to the career criminal he once was, yet he makes no attempt to downplay his record, which includes stints in the Stark County Jail.

“By the time I graduated from high school, I was into cocaine, shooting drugs and drinking heavily,” he said. “I was in and out of jail. I had come to the point where I wrote a letter to my state representative, trying to get help.”

Sure Bet

Morris said he also was an “avid” gambler, thanks to an “after-hours” club run by his late father.

“Sometimes, the men would stop betting on cards to bet on my life, that I wouldn’t make it to 25, or if I lived, I’d be in prison,” he said. “I got saved at 25.”

Morris’ epiphany came Dec. 7, 1989, after a three-day binge.

“I was heavily strung out,” he said. I had spent all the money in the house. It was Christmas, but my two little daughters were all over me with hugs. I realized I needed a change. I had pretty much given up on life, other than taking my life.

“I had tried everything else in my life except Jesus.”

Yet even after he committed his life to God, Morris admits he struggled and stumbled.

“Have I lived a nonfailing Christian life? No,” he said. “At one point, I was ‘playing’ church. One night, pastor preached a sermon about Samson. From that point until now, the Lord has kept me. Playing church was out.”

A former house manager with Quest Recovery services, Morris said he empathizes with addicted people “and those who struggle with shortcomings, even though they are saved.”

“Some people think once you’re saved, it solves all your problems,” he said with a smile. “It’s not a cure-all. God helps you to overcome obstacles. I still struggle.”

Morris said churches should strive to emulate Jesus, who reached out to sinners, adding that the church members visit local jails and juvenile detention centers.

“I’ve been in Highland Park under the stairs, and behind trash cans,” he said. “They need us, to know the way out.”

Greater Bethel member Janie Franks has known Morris since they were young adults.

“We grew up together, went our separate ways, and made our own mistakes,” she said. “I returned to the church … before he did. I was there to witness him returning to the church, the person he was then, and how he was when he came back to the Lord,” she said. “You saw a complete change. l saw that God had touched him and changed him.”

Franks said she admires how Morris handled personal struggles, including his status as an ex-felon, and the death of an infant son.

“He didn’t allow that to stop him,” she said.

Selling Dreams

After he became a Christian, Morris said he tried to avoid his old acquaintances.

“Some didn’t believe it,” he said with chuckle. “Most didn’t. I had to stay away from them. Every time the doors opened, I was here, even if they were just working on the church.”

Morris admits that even his wife, Andrea, was skeptical.

“She was unsure,” he said. “As a (drug) fiend, you sell dreams. I was a very good con man when I wanted drugs. She thought it was another dream. She was waiting to see how long it was going to last.”

Morris began his ministry as a church-van driver, moving up to transportation director, the youth department president for 13 years. He was ordained in 1991 through the Pentecostal Assemblies of the World and licensed in 1995.

Morris said he tries to follow Byrd’s example.

“You have to love God and God’s people and God’s word,” he said. “People will get on your nerves. I saw my pastor get sick because of what he experienced through some people’s conduct. He cared for us as our own father would. It’s what God goes through when we are disobedient to his will and wisdom.”

Carry On

Earnest Andrews, a deacon who has been Greater Bethel’s organist for 56 years, said Morris has proven to be a worthy successor to Byrd, who mentored him.

“He’s been in the church for several years and has really grown, especially in knowing Scripture,” Andrews said. “He’s a good Bible teacher and a good preacher. He’s also very good with counseling people.”

Andrews said he’s not troubled by Morris’ past, saying, “You never put down somebody because they (have) a little bit of trouble.”

Franks, who voted for Morris, says he’s a humble man who was the perfect choice to lead Greater Bethel; something she said God told her would happen nearly three years before it did.

“To see it come to pass showed me that the Lord definitely spoke to me,” she said. “This is our pastor and we need to support him and carry on.”

Morris said his life is an answer to an oft-repeated prayer, in which he asked God to prove his existence, and to show him his purpose in life.

“I said, ‘If there is a God, deliver me from the life I’m living,’ ” he recalled. “ ‘There has to be something better for me.’ ”